


Meeting on 13 August, 463

by Rambling_Museums



Series: Revieved May 463/The Delegates' Drama [4]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Briar has PTSD, Flashbacks, Gen, Magic, Numair and George have a chat, Plant Magic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambling_Museums/pseuds/Rambling_Museums
Summary: Numair, in his position as occasional spy, gives his report to the Whisper Man.





	Meeting on 13 August, 463

**Author's Note:**

> As ever: see a mistake, point it out please!  
Another shift in style, let me know what you think. This shifts from Numair and George having a conversation to Numair's observations at the time (so flashbacks).

**Being the transcription of conversation between Numair and George Cooper on 13 August, 463 concerning the events of the 11th and 12th of August 463.**

**Transcribed after the fact by George Cooper.**

“Your trip was easy I hope?” George asked Numair. The mage and his companions [_WM: Alanna the Lioness, four Emelese mages, Lady Kel the Protector of the Small, and the Wildmage in the form of a hawk_] arrived at Pirate’s Swoop the evening before after two days journey from Port Legann. They travelled light between the two fiefs. There were criminals about but very few would be willing to take on a party containing both lady knights even if they didn’t recognize any of the others.

“It went smoothly, yes. After Raoul departed with the Own and most of our baggage we made steady progress up the coast.” Numair sat across from George in one of his private meeting rooms. Before they began their discussions George made a careful circuit of the space checking for unseen listeners. Numair, too, carefully preformed his own checks from his seat while he sipped strong tea.

In Numair’s opinion, it was far too soon after the first bell to have such a clandestine meeting.

“All four are comfortable in the saddle. We stopped to walk and water the horses a few times both days and not one of them complained. I don’t know what your reports have said to this point but all are very practical in travel effectively divvying up camp tasks.”

“You didn’t stay at the wayhouse?” George and Imrah ensured that the inn between Legann and the Swoop was well tended. He didn’t bother to hide his surprise that Numair didn’t spend the night there.

“No.” Numair sipped his tea, “Alanna and I tried to convince them to stay there but Sandry protested. She said that our party was too large to surprise the inn keeper. As she outranks... well all of us except for Alanna who would rather sleep in a, a bush. We slept in a clearing in the woods near the wayhouse.”

George gwaffed at the thought of Alanna sleeping in a bush. The knight liked to pretend she was a much younger woman. In the last few years, rough sleeping had her aching and cranky in the morning.

“I have a feeling, though, that Sandry wasn’t concerned for the inn keeper.” Numair said around a bite of egg bread.

“No?” George said and drank his own tea.

“No. I haven’t spoken to them about it yet but.”

* * *

“If nobody needs out of camp again, I’ll ward us for the night.” Sandry said on the night of the 11th. She stood from her seat by the fire and fetched a ball of bright red yarn from one of her bags.

“Would you mind terribly if I watched?” Numair asked. At her nod, he unfolded his long limbs and followed closely.

“Will anything, animals that is, be able to pass through your barrier?” Numair asked curiously. Daine-the-hawk was in a near by tree.

“I don’t know.” Sandry said truthfully, “It isn’t often a consideration. Horses without their rider pose little threat after all.”

“In that case, I would like to call a friend in for the night.” Numair whistled sharply. Daine-the-hawk squawked and flew down to his outstretched arm. Sandry eyed him but said nothing as she began to place her circle. Neither mages said anything, even the hawk was peaceful.

* * *

“It was a full globe, George.” Numair’s eyes were bright and excited, “It encircled the camp and the horses with plenty of room for grazing just like one I or Alanna would make but few mages not trained in warding would bother to think of the ground under their feet.”

“She wrote no signs nor spoke any words when doing it either.”

George hummed in thought.

* * *

Numair woke with a start in the dark after moonset. With a snap he had a bright orb of his gift in his hand ready to fling it out at an attacker or sink it harmlessly into the earth. It cast enough light to catch a pair of hazel eyes from the far side of the banked fire.

“Sorry for waking you.” Briar murmured. His hands were around one of the rough earthenware cups Alanna brought for morning tea, “The sharp smell of this particular tea can be a bit alarming. I forgot.”

“What are you doing up?” Numair asked, he kept his voice equally soft.

“I don’t sleep much.” Briar shrugged.

* * *

“On the 12th as we walked the horses we passed an apple orchard hit hard by the famine.” The use of the Dominion Jewel had long lasting effects.

George did his best to support his farmers through the drought and withering and most farms were working towards recovery now. There were a few hold-outs though.

“Briar asked us to stop for a short while. I initially assumed it was because of his early morning but quickly realized he wasn’t after a rest.”

* * *

The young man looked a little pale to Numair when he asked for a short interlude. Daine whispered to Numair and Alanna that Briar had been up for at least an hour before Numair woke and stayed awake for the rest of the night; he even preparing breakfast for the travellers as dawn broke. Numair frowned at the delay but his sisters supported the break. They broke out some meats, cheeses, and flat bread for a snack while Briar wandered into the blighted orchard.

Tris watched him go and sighed, “Daj’ do you have some thin copper wire I can borrow? About a foot”

“What do you need it for?” Daja asked as she dug some wire from her saddlebag. Numair took a moment to wonder why she kept it there. He only realized as he spoke to George that Daja easily snapped off a short length of a larger spool.

“Because if he is doing what I expect he’s doing, I’ll have to make a charm to sooth the mage-fright.” Tris grumbled as she grubbed for some dried grasses along the roadside, “Straw would work better.” Daine-the-Hawk, who stayed with Alanna during the day so far, screeched and took to the air.

“I think the bird wants you wait.” Daja murmured. They watched the hawk wing towards the closest barn. Tris grumbled but waited all the same.

“What do you think Briar is going to do?” Alanna asked. They were on her home fief now after all. She had a right to be concerned about foreign mages working magics on her people.

“Well, given the state of those trees,” Sandry said. She used a hand to shade her eyes as she observed her brother sitting crossed-legs under a tree near the centre of the orchard, “He will likely be working a healing. Or at least working out what has gone wrong with this field.”

“He’s using his gift?” Numair asked.

“Yes.”

Numair grabbed for his seeing oils and quickly dabbed it onto his eyelids before offering some to Alanna who shrugged and accepted.

“You know,” Kel grumbled, “Sometimes it is mighty boring being the only non-mage in a group.”

Sandry laughed and engaged Kel in conversation as Numair and Alanna watched Briar.

* * *

“My mage-sight will never be as strong as your Sight but the oils and signs do help.” Numair explained to George around a bite of southern fig stuffed with soft goat cheese and honey. Alanna had grown fond of the fruit while she lived with the Bloody Hawk tribe. George tried to have some on hand (preserved or fresh) if his wife was in the fief.

“I know that, Numair,” George, as a rule, tried not to rush the flighty mage in his reporting but Numair was prone to distraction. A little nudging could only help.

“I say this because Alan told me of their odd colouring but I confess to always seeing the gift as sliver light when the mage is not trying to be showy.” to demonstrate Numair summoned a glittering orb of his black and silver gift. George nodded, this was not news to him but he did occasionally forget the subtle differences between true Sight and mage-sight.

“As we watched Briar sunk threads of his gift that looked like the roots of trees. It has been a very long time since I studied trees in Carthak but I will eat my saddle blanket if they were roots of any tree but an apple.

“The roots spread from Briar to each of the trees in the orchard as well as the comfrey, fennel, and yarrow growing beneath. None were doing very well. He did not connect one-by-each but rather all together. The amount of focus that would take is astounding. And the control to not get lost among the roots.” Numair shuddered as if he remembered the feeling of being a tree.

“Nothing outwardly happened. He wrote no signs nor said anything. And yet the trees and herbs improved. What soil I could see grew darker and richer and healthier; the leaves stretched and uncurled; the fruits grew plump. It was like no working I have ever seen.”

[_WM: Ask them to demonstrate their gifts. The tribal gifts of the Bazhir appear silver/pale gold to me. Alanna described the gifts she encountered at the Roof of the World similarly. Perhaps these four represent tribal magic in Emelan._]

* * *

Briar uncurled from his meditative position and would have pitched into the soil if Daja hadn’t been there to catch him. Sandry handed him a flatbread filled with soft cheese and venison from their supplies. Briar took it with a nod of thanks and ate half in two large bites.

“Are you alright?” Kel asked, she helped the mage into his saddle and contemplated tying him to it. She’d had to for Neal and Numair in the past after all. Tris deftly bent copper around the straw Daine-the-hawk brought her.

“Yeah,” Briar croaked and fished for his water skin before continuing, “Yeah’ m’alright. That orchard was bad off though. It was as if someone sucked the Green Man’s energy out of the soil.”

“The Green Man?” Alanna asked. She was examining an apple that fell from its tree as Briar meditated. It was plump and round and ripe. She’d have to send a message to the farmer. She tucked the apple into her pack.

“A god back home. He helps crops grow. And green things.” Briar waved off the ropes Kel offered to tie him with, “I’ve never really worshipped him 'side from doing things for the Earth Temple with Rosethorn and the like. But I don’t know how else to describe the feeling.” Tris looped her charm over a low hanging branch near the edge of the orchard. “It felt like the energy that gives green things the chance to grow had drained away. Not enough to outright kill the trees but in a year or two, if nothing had been done, they would have died.” The Hawk swooped from her perch and circled the charm twice before lighting on the horn on Alanna’s saddle again.

Sandry brought Briar his miniature tree from their pack horse but the young man waved her off before Numair could ask what it was about.

* * *

“Did you recognize the charm?” George asked.

“Not in its entirety but its component parts are very common for farming charms throughout Carthak and the Eastern Lands.” Numair sighed, “Daine sketched it for me once we arrived at the Swoop and I knew a few of the symbols but not all of them.”

“And what of the boy’s working?”

“Well as far as I could tell, he called the Green Man’s presence back to the orchard." Numair shrugged, "I have to assume that Briar was detecting the lasting effects of the Dominion Jewel and he was able to break whatever hold the jewel had on the orchard. Somehow.”

“You said that even a mage of your power couldn’t do that.” George sat back in his chair. The mug was steady in his hand though he was tempted to pitch it into the wall. Tortall had a good number of powerful mages both in the City of Gods and the new University in Corus. Alanna, Numair, and Daine were all counted in that number. Not a single one knew how to counter the environmental devastation brought on by using the Dominion Jewel. This foreign mage, 21 years old at the most, was able to do in an hour what Tortallan great mages could only dream of. It didn't help that his sisters didn't seem surprised by that display but the worst part: Up until this report George couldn't even confirm he had the gift. 

“I can’t. I don’t know what Emelese standard for certification is but if these four are the norm, we best caution Jon to take them seriously.

“Tris’ charm makes me think that they are not considered normal in Emelan either. She was too quick to make something recognizable. I am intimately aware of mage-fright. It seems these four young people are too.

"I don’t think Briar could do it for the whole country. It clearly took a lot out of him to do that single orchard.” Numair said, “He didn’t need to be tied to his horse but I watched him for the rest of the day: he worked no other magic. Alanna directed your housekeeper to send him to bed almost before we entered the keep.”

“Jemmy had some trouble with that.” George grinned. He adored his housekeeper but the Trebond man flustered far too readily. At Numair’s inquiring sound George elaborated, “Jemmy and I set all four of them up on the same wing, second floor,” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the sea, “Briar Moss initially went to sleep there with no problem but only two bells later Jemmy screamed upon finding him in the kitchen garden asleep under a peach tree.

“Cook ran out at the sound and found Briar, wide-eyed with knives in his hands.” George sobered at that. “Luckily Kisubo came into the courtyard next, called her brother an idiot and sent him back up to his room with a peach to tide him over.”

[_WM: After the four once again refused their host's offer of body servants I believe I should accompany them on the rest of their journey into Corus. It has been a while since I visited Myles after all and some conversations are better done in person. Mayhap I'll duck my head into the Dancing Dove for old-time's sake._]


End file.
